Booby Gyre

PHOTOGRAPHER'S JOURNAL:  (Be sure to click on the image.) 

What is old is new, and what is new is very old. That's the lesson of Galapagos. What is the meaning of a day of life when compared with the ceaseless, spasmodic magma oozing from ulcerous cavities deep within the earth?  What is the meaning of this rock of ages without life and a day in which to be awed?

This is a high resolution image produced with magic. I assure viewers that the flock of boobies is quite real. A moment earlier we had all been facing the other way, gaping as four orange flamingos suddenly flew by in formation against the blue sky. Still earlier in the morning we had stood hushed, awed as the same birds posed, poked, stepped like high priests with backward knees and heads deep in water - four flamingos performing holy sacraments for their breakfast in a still lagoon. Now they streaked by in disciplined file.   

I had just time to snap those pictures and turn to see this gyre of boobies whirling around the tiny island, circling down in preparation for landing. The sound was effervescent.

The high resolution of the original image file reveals even the eye of one of a pair of birds perched in the tree, and if this image were printed large, the viewer's eyes could follow the boat out into the middle of the bay and to the far-off islands that show clearly on the horizon.  It is an odd landscape to photograph.

What is old is new, and what is new is very old. That's the lesson of Galapagos. What is the meaning of a day of life when compared with the ceaseless, spasmodic magma oozing from ulcerous cavities deep within the earth?  What is the meaning of this rock of ages without life and a day in which to be awed?